Waiting on the Thunder
by songsingsitself
Summary: Carrie Anne West is just trying to figure out why her teacher wants to set her up with Two-Bit Mathews, why Johnny Cade doesn't want to talk to her, and where she can find a cute boy who will play with her hair and tell her she's pretty.


**Hi everyone! Fun fact: When I was in eighth grade, I had an account by the name of JohnnyCadesChick and I wrote a story called Rebel Yell. Being that it was a time of great immaturity in writing, emotion, and romance, the story was not well done, and I feel like I did a great disservice to Johnny. He had no dignity, no personality other than being a scared little puppy, and I do not feel like I honored him and his character. So I decided to try to rework that story with the same characters, and not necessarily the same plot, so don't feel like you have to go back and read it. I know this starts like any normal Outsiders fanfic, but this is just the start. Please let me know what you think, I have a great next chapter I'd love to crank out!**

In a large circle of desks, we waited, not sure why it needed to be so dark in here.

The lights were off, and this tiny blond woman held a candle under her chin, eerily illuminating her round face. Pretty sure fire isn't allowed in school. The clock struck eight and her skirt swirled as she gracefully climbed up on top of her desk in the middle of the circle.

"Doubt thou the stars are fire," she began, her high, clear voice ringing, "doubt that the sun doth move; doubt truth to be a liar; but NEVER doubt I love."

A great pause.

The confusion in the room was palpable, and I slowly began to clap to diffuse it; others quickly joined. A satisfied smile spread across her face as Miss August gave a deep curtsy, nearly lit her hair on fire, and then waltzed over to the light switch.

It took a moment for my eyes to adjust, and I started to rub my eyes, but oh. I put makeup on today. I usually didn't, but I felt like the start of a new semester meant that I could try something new.

"Carrie Anne, you look like one of those trash pandas. Fight the urge," Dawn hissed behind the hand covering her mouth.

" _Welcome,_ scholars! This spring, we will be continuing to study the _marvelous_ works of _Shakespeare, Poe,_ and _Dickens,"_ Miss August announced, carefully choosing which words to emphasize as if this were a performance. She took a breath to begin a new line, but the sound of the door opening interrupted her. "Mr. _Mathews_ , Mr. _Cade_. I trust your tardiness will not become a _habit?"_ The sweet timbre of her voice was not able to completely mask her exasperation.

Two-Bit Mathews shamelessly winked at her. "Won't happen again, ma'am." Johnny Cade managed an apologetic smile, and they shuffled to two empty seats across the circle from Dawn and I.

They were boys that I knew by face and reputation. My cousins complained that they were no good, but I had learned anything in my first semester at Will Rogers High School, it was that there were two sides to every story.

It took Miss August a moment to get back in her performance mentality. "Our _first_ great work is Shakespeare's _Hamlet_! I know you will all find _great_ joy in _performing_ it-"

"Wait. Performing it?" Charles Nelson from my Geometry class dared to interrupt her again.

The woman's ice blue skirt twirled as she wheeled around to face him, her eyes matching.

"Please. Do not talk. While I. Am. Talking."

With that, she huffed and crossed the room. "And yes, as we read together, you _all_ will be assigned parts. Not only will we have the pleasure of _reading_ such a masterpiece, but we will also be growing in our roles as _actors._ " She clasped her hands together and sighed, as if she thought high school students would be as thrilled as she at the opportunity.

I would have been positively thrilled to read the play. By myself. In my own head.

I tried to muster up a smile for her though, because the rest of the class was grumbling to each other and I noticed she was starting to droop. She was a strong little racehorse though, and attempted to straighten herself up. "Oh, you will see. I daresay we will learn as much about each other as we will ourselves. The theater brings people together, wouldn't you know it."

"Ugh. She's starting this semester with just as much vigor as last," Dawn said later as she dumped out her lunch bag onto the table. "She's just out of college, and obviously was in the drama program."

"I'll say," I replied, thinking of the creepy beginning of her class. "She's a little strange."

"I heard she puts people next to each other to try to set them up."

"You know, I've always wondered if teachers actually do that. If I was a teacher, you'd better believe that's what I'd spend my time doing. I would do it the right way, too. I would be sure to refer to my colleagues to make sure that I wouldn't be the only one that thought a couple belonged together."

Dawn smirked at me. "You'd spend so much of your time doing that, you wouldn't even be teaching."

I shrugged, opening up my carton of milk. "Has she succeeded in this endeavor?" I tried to be casual, but my boy-craziness was making me a little hopeful. I longed to be someone's girl, have them play with my hair and tell me they loved me.

"Yep." Dawn pointed with her French fry to the round table on the other side of the room where Bobby Samson and Gina Malone sat. They were arguing, of course, which was all the ever did, unless you counted making out in the back of the movie house.

I wrinkled my nose. "Well, perhaps not the best choice, but they are still together, so that's something." Taking a bite of my sandwich, I studied the rest of the junior class.

Will Rogers High School was like my old high school in that it was a breeding ground for all sorts of social diseases, only more so. With luck, I had managed to contract absolutely none of them. Since my arrival in August, I had sat at the same lunch table with my friend Dawn and some nice, quiet girls, and we had a grand old time together watching everyone flip their lids over who was sitting with who, who was a hood, whose daddy bought them something nice, and all that "important" stuff. My cousin Noel told me that I was making a big mistake-that who I hung out with in high school would make where I would go in life, though she did tell me I had made a good move in not making friends with any greasers.

Her advice was unsolicited of course, and she wasn't too happy when I told her that what she was saying was a load of silliness. The world would not mirror high school. There HAD to be more important, more exciting, more true things in life. And with age, surely people would stop dividing others into groups based on who had the most and least money and opportunities.

Well, I knew that some people still did. But was it wrong to hope for better in the world? Was it wrong to exemplify the change that you wished to see?

Over the course of that week, I learned that I didn't really mind Miss August's class. I sure wasn't crazy about the idea of performing a play with a bunch of words I didn't understand, but this activity proved more interesting than my other classes. And I figured since there were so many people in the class, I could slip into a background role, maybe one that only had two lines the whole play, and then I could read whatever book I brought with me.

Miss August passed out our books that next day and informed us that she would be designating parts. I remembered what Dawn had told me of her love for setting up couples, and I couldn't wait to see who she would put as Hamlet and Ophelia. Dawn had bet me a Kit Kat that the couple would last longer than Bobby and Gina had (which was three months and counting).

If I had been the teacher of first hour English 11B, I would have picked Dan and Samantha to be Hamlet and Ophelia. Samantha was a shy, sweet girl who always had a red ponytail and sat at my lunch table, and I knew that Dan adored her. It was so frustrating because the poor girl could not see it, bless her heart, even in December when Dan had baked her a batch of Christmas cookies. Tell me, what kind of boy does that?!

As I tried to match more couples (would Lisa and Ted work? No, I think Ted might have dated her friend once) Miss August had begun to give out roles. I heard the first few and they seemed random enough that I could tell she wasn't just calling names from attendance. I guess she had to call my name a few times because it didn't register with me until she yelled it. "CARRIE ANNE WEST!" I flinched and nearly stabbed myself with my pencil. " _You_ will be Ophelia."

"Hey there, wifey!" Two-Bit Mathews crowed from across the room, wagging his rusty red eyebrows at me. All my hope was squashed for the cute couples I had mentally matched and for my fate as a background person, and I groaned.

"Oh, sorry, she's actually not your wife, Ophelia dies shortly after you go crazy," Samantha explained patiently to him.

"I go crazy?" Two-Bit's face shined with glee. "That's so tuff!" He held up his hand for Johnny to high five him, and Johnny obliged, although he looked a little confused about why Two-Bit was celebrating.

Miss August let out a loud gasp. _"Please!_ Miss _Davis!_ There will be _no_ spoiling of the story in our _theater!"_ She turned to me, smiling sweetly with a knowing glint in her eye. "Now, dear _Ophelia,_ go join your Hamlet! _Guildinstern,_ please move to make room for Ophelia."

Johnny Cade reluctantly hopped over a seat so I could sit next to Two-Bit.

 _"Heyyyyy, Carrie Annnneeee, what's your game now, can anybody play?"_ Two-Bit sang, then held out a large, calloused hand. "Keith David Mathews, but you can call me Two-Bit. Gum?"

I guessed he couldn't be so bad if he was going to politely introduce himself, serenade me, and offer me the most sought after currency in high school: Juicy Fruit. Even if I didn't really want his clumsy looking hands to play with my hair.

"Thank you, kind sir." I turned to his friend. "Hi, I'm Carrie Anne West." Even for a string bean, the boy had a strong grip as he quickly shook my hand.

"I'm Johnny," he replied in a low, husky voice, running a hand through his thick dark hair. I wondered if his hand felt weird afterward from all the grease that was in there. It was a trend I really didn't understand. Also, he needed a haircut.

"Johnny's afraid of girls," Two-Bit leaned in and stage-whispered.

"Shut up," Johnny retorted. "I am not." Two-Bit hooted, Johnny scowled, and I figured that this wouldn't be so terrible.


End file.
